Intoxicating
by KaiLights
Summary: "He caught me staring again. I didn't even look away anymore, what was the point? I'd just look back again. His eyes flitted away as soon as they touched mine. Almost indigo but not quite as purpley, definitely not just blue." Re-uploaded, better writing and more details.


**Hey guys! It's been a while since my last story, which was actually this one. I'm re-uploading it because now it has more details and I fixed spelling errors and such. Also! I deleted my other fluffs because as much as I like to see growth within my work, I don't upload enough to really show how far I've come. I tried a new style for this little thing, more like a direct-thoughts kind of flow? I can't explain it. And I actually had some trouble with verb tenses in this one, let me know if anything should be corrected. Criticism is always welcome. (i was going to write this scene in alec's point of view but decided against it because observing alec is more fun than being observed by magnus oops)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the lovely characters, just this particular arrangement of letters and words and dashes and dots. Like a code. Or recipe.**

* * *

He caught me staring again. I didn't even look away any more, what was the point? I'd just look back again. Our math teacher left us with a senile old lady that loosely fit the requirements of a substitute so there's no chance I'd get scolded for paying attention to something other than variables and equations. His eyes flitted away as soon as they touched mine. Almost indigo but not quite as purpley, definitely not just blue. God, I swear those locks of thick dark hair had a mind of their own, curling against his forehead and winking at me every time a whisper of wind blew in from the open window. He looked back again and gave me a pleading smile, lips turned up a little bit at each corner and eyebrows drawn together slightly. I knew that look. It's the look he gave me when his family was singing happy birthday to him right before he covered his face with his hands, the look he wore in the midst of cheering classmates after he won his first poetry slam in English class two years ago. He wanted me to stop looking at him, though he's secretly flattered. I shook my head at him slightly and couldn't help smiling when he groaned softly and hid his face in his arms.

The bell rang a few moments after, sending a flurry of students out the door, the substitute hobbling after them and muttering something about coffee. This wasn't  
happening. We were unexpectedly alone. This moment was not real. I could tell because it had that dreamy feel to it all of a sudden, where my feet weren't quite there and the air smelled fresh and springy. He looked up in time to see the classroom door snap shut with a soft click and glanced over to where I was sitting. You'd have to be blind to miss the look in his eye. I smiled and nodded at him politely and started heading to the door because I was suddenly overwhelmed with him and his face and his whole _being_ and how tangible the tension in the air had become in a matter of seconds. I heard the squeaking of his chair against the school floors and a moment later there was a sharp tug on the cuff of my sleeve as his teeth re-acquainted themselves with my lower lip. He pressed his fingers into my hipbone, his nails cutting into my skin pleasantly, and pushed me against the window so that the brick ledge dug into my spine. His breathing went from unsteady inhales to a series of quick, small breaths as I printed kisses across his jawline and nipped at his ear, guiding him so that his shoulder blades were against the wall. My fingers found the collar of his uniform and undid a just enough buttons to expose the fading purple-red marks left on his pale collarbones from last week. His hands fisted in the material of my shirt when I bit down on the skin just beneath his jawbone. "Lower," he murmured, leaning his head back and slipping one of his knees between mine. What was I feeling right then? A colorful arrangement of unfamiliar things; embarrassment for the faint, shamefully uncontrolled sound that got pulled out of my breath as if it were the friction-heated square of caramel currently melting in my pocket; a longing so strong that it made my fingers shake and my skin tingle; and the kind of panic that can only come from doing something so highly unadvised in such an unguarded atmosphere. Yet I pressed myself closer to him, mapping him with soft wet kisses until he mumbled my name so sweetly that I forgot about secrecy and sucked at the pale skin on the side of his neck harder than I should have. I could feel his breathing stumble before one of his hands came up to grasp my hair, the other one still entwined with my fingers tightly. He tilted my head back to his and pressed his lips to me roughly, his teeth clicking against mine in a way that I used to consider unpleasant but was quickly growing fond of. He broke away and glanced at the clock. "Fuck." He swallowed quickly and looked back at me, running his fingers through my hair frantically to make it lay flat as I buttoned up the collar of his shirt. I caught his hands in mine and pressed a hurried kiss to them, pulling him away from the wall he was previously up against and murmuring his name. He smiled and straightened out my shirt where it was crooked.

"Alexander, love, is this what you meant when you suggested we get to know each other better before taking things farther?" He replied with a sound in between groaning and laughing, nuzzling against my neck and holding me closer.

"You're like poison," He pressed soft kisses to my neck just before the bell rang. "Intoxicating."


End file.
